James Whitcomb Riley

(7 October 1849 - 22 July 1916 / Greenfield, Indiana)

James Whitcomb Riley Poems

321. As Created 4/9/2010
322. Longfellow 4/9/2010
323. Let Us Forget 4/9/2010
324. He And I 4/9/2010
325. Lullaby 4/9/2010
326. Out Of Nazareth 4/9/2010
327. My Bride That Is To Be 4/9/2010
328. A Parent Reprimanded 4/9/2010
329. A Sudden Shower 4/9/2010
330. A Noted Traveler 4/9/2010
331. Our Kind Of A Man 4/9/2010
332. Fame 4/9/2010
333. A Rough Sketch 4/9/2010
334. Nothin' To Say 4/9/2010
335. Nessmuk 4/9/2010
336. Who Santy-Claus Wuz 4/9/2010
337. Company Manners 4/9/2010
338. When She Comes Home 4/9/2010
339. Dead Leaves 4/9/2010
340. How Did You Rest, Last Night? 4/9/2010
341. Father William 4/9/2010
342. Down Around The River 4/9/2010
343. The Bumblebee 12/31/2002
344. Art And Love 4/9/2010
345. A Water-Color 4/9/2010
346. A' Old Played-Out Song 4/9/2010
347. On The Sunny Side 4/9/2010
348. No Boy Knows 4/9/2010
349. Das Krist Kindel 4/9/2010
350. An Out-Worn Sappho 4/9/2010
351. Down On Wriggle Crick 4/9/2010
352. Dusk 4/9/2010
353. Dearth 4/9/2010
354. Where-Away 4/9/2010
355. Dreamer, Say 4/9/2010
356. When Evening Shadows Fall 4/9/2010
357. When De Folks Is Gone 4/9/2010
358. Old Winters On The Farm 4/9/2010
359. A New Year's Plaint 4/9/2010
360. Cousin Rufus' Story 4/9/2010

Comments about James Whitcomb Riley

  • nariah (11/22/2017 9:21:00 AM)

    I love little orphan annie poet you wrote so I just want to say I love your interest in this poem

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  • Jules Levin (11/15/2013 11:13:00 AM)

    I am looking for the date of writing/publishing for each poem and could not find it on the site.
    Am I overlooking something obvious?

  • Joybaby John (11/1/2012 6:57:00 AM)

    I am miss joy by name, Is my pleasure to contact you after going through your profile at /www.poemhunter.com which really interest me in having communication with you. I will appreciate if you can write me back (joybabyjohn25@yahoo.co.uk) for easiest communication and to know more about each other so that i will explain myself to you and also send my picture to you.
    Take care and have a nice day.
    I await hearing from you soonest.
    Yours truly


  • Catharine Dee (3/10/2012 2:21:00 PM)

    Date of birth listed above is wrong. It's October 7th not the 9th.

  • Stella Mary (1/3/2012 5:00:00 AM)

    I read your poems and it was good.

  • Tony Judson (9/15/2006 8:21:00 AM)

    James I read your 'poem of the day' and I think it is brilliant! your sense of rythmn & rhyme is beautiful and your poetic license with spelling and alliteration is superb.
    It makes wish I could have been the fly on the wall in a meeting between you and the late Ogden Nash- Keep it up Cheers Tony Judson

  • Carolyn Binkley (10/6/2005 6:47:00 PM)

    James Whitcomb Riley is by far one of my favorite poets of all time. I love his imagery, his imagination, his rhyme and rhythm. And most of all I love his sense of 'simple' and his connection to the nature in all of us. He cleverly plays with that which is real, unlike Lewis Carroll who cleverly plays with that which is not.

Best Poem of James Whitcomb Riley

When The Frost Is On The Punkin

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey cock
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence
O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of...

Read the full of When The Frost Is On The Punkin

The Ripest Peach

The ripest peach is highest on the tree --
And so her love, beyond the reach of me,
Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bow
Her heart down to me where I worship now!

She looms aloft where every eye may see
The ripest peach is highest on the tree.
Such fruitage as her love I know, alas!
I may not reach here from the orchard grass.

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